2008-03-09 - Gladiatorial Games
Gamor Prime: Thicktusk Isle - Lake Shoreline You are near the edge of a large lake. The water is colored a pale green and many reeds grow out from it all along the edges. Remains of some skeletons are half-submerged and quite a few of them are marked by aquatic animal marks nearby. Clearly whatever is in the lake likes the taste of meat. But the lush green around still thrives despite the signs of battle that have burnt some spots black. The lake's shore has been cleared of almost all debris; though off to one side or the other the occasional broken skeleton can be seen. Set up on the cleared field is a vast array of shielding equipment. Ray shields form an enormous, impenetrable ring on the sandy shoreline, making it impossible for any to enter(or escape) while a fight is in progress. A long tunnel stretches away from the fighting ring; connecting to a huge soundproof container some distance away. A dias has been set up on the northern end of the circle, safely behind the ray shielding. Rooga the Hutt, along with his Whiphid bodyguards and protocol droid, rests up on the dias. In front of the Hutt is a small podium with a microphone. "Chaa, bolla lorda winkee chik moulee-rah dunko yoka! Schoon, Rooga doma Eniki, Lickmoomoo chowbasa Tonka Shag, moocha killee me! Koochu, nudd jujiminmee waffmula pawa Yocola Dwana kava Youngee, Achuta copah choppa makacheesa be howdunga Jee Gocola Tagwa H'chu!" Once the applause has died down, Rooga nods his large head slowly. "Uba jee-jee chowbasa apenkee tee-tocky gopptula schoon pawa bolla toma teesaw! Jee jeedai wanga a tonka gocola eniki planeeto winkee a bedwana! Che nobata patogga buttmalia dunko wamma yafullkee hoohah nudd your chawa na!" The droid shuffles over to Rooga and presents him with a small, hand-held control box. Flipping the cover, Rooga presses one of the buttons; sounding a bell and opening two small sections of the shielding for the fighters to enter the ring. "Choppa bunky chawa bolla wamma coo pateessa tee-tocky Kerrick haku Wata! Murishani sleemo makacheesa konchee!" "Greetings, beings from all corners of the galaxy! I, Rooga the Hutt, Governor of Gamor Prime, welcome to you! Today, with the assistance of Windward Shipping and Sacree-Avernus, I bring you the first annual Gamor Prime Gladiatorial Games! Today you will witness many feats of strength and combat prowess! As well as a special treat for all as a finale! Enjoy the games and be sure to bet on your favorite fighters! Our first fight of the day will be...Huntmaster Kerrick versus Vires! Let the games begin!" The hunter accepts the weapon supplied for him and inspects it. He nods slowly to himself before he turns towards one of the hunters accompanying him and hands the man the remainder of the huntmaster's gear. With that task done, Kerrick slowly walks into the ring... The one known as Vires pulls himself off of the ground nearby, throwing away an empty alchohal bottle. He stumbly makes his way up to receive his weapon, and practically falls into the ring. He rights himself with an unsteady hand and *hic*!s. Swaying slightly. Tuil has taken up a position with a superior view of the ring. The Jedi watches with keen interest as those who are about to fight ready themselves. He folds his hands in his sleeves and looks from one side to the other as he waits for battle to begin. Windom follows his senpei to their vantage point over the shielded ring. The junior man of the pair looks on, a bit in awe. He glances at Tuil about to say something, but he falls silent and turns to watch the violent proceedings. Chewing gum, unceremoniously, is a short lady nearby. She muscles her way to the front, it's only fair after all-- the leather-clad human being shorter than most. Regarding the two fighters, Morrigan blows a bubble with a loud *POP*. Sitting in the stands is a man wearing cheap wool clothes. His hand rests on his helmet, until the announcement is given. Perking up he looks to the woman on his right, Aileen Jo, and says, in a low tone, "I've seen that Kerrick fellow fight before. He's good." Gavik nods his approval. Kerrick gives Vires a look over and slightly tilts his head to the side as he notes the man's apparent lack of sobriety. "I hate warmup matches," he hisses through his voice modulator as he pushes the button on the side of his weapon and flicks the blade out of the handle. Then, crouching low, the hunter stalks through the mud and the mire towards his opponent, watching him for some sign of his intentions. A green-robed man moves through the crowds to find a seat next to Lindo and Kambei. "Greetings," he says quietly to the two men, bowing and then taking his seat. Lazlo lets his hood down and places his hands -- one scarred -- on his knees. "I make it a point not to travel out to these parts," he says softly. "But this will be interesting. The Huntmaster will win this one." A glance is paid to Tuil and Windom. Off to the side, a dark-cloaked figure is visible, gloved hands resting on the railing of the fighting ring idly. Its shadowed features shift to regard the two combatants, golden-bright eyes watching with vague interest. An armor-clad young man sidles his way through the crowd, shifting over to get a good view of the fighting. Myriad, known as Petrus by some, crosses his arms across his chest and yawns quietly, brown eyes focused on the fighters. Vires fumbly wields his switchblade, staring up his opponent with one eye. The other is squintily peering off somewhere else. This guy was pretty wasted, it's a wonder he's even still allowed to fight. Every so often he takes a few steps forward or back. Unsteadily. On a blanket in the grass, within a delicate arrangement of black silk skirts, sits Faris. Her position gives her a grand view of the ring, spectators who may try to wiggle in front of the woman are roughly pushed away by menacing guards in black armor and visored helmets. Faris smiles with interest at the fighters, swishing, in one hand, a flute of what appears to be blue lum. Aileen Jo's head is turned to the arena, her eyes and hair covered by a shimmering veil. Occasionally the glimpse of an eye can be seen beneath the cloth - like now, when she turns to Gavik by her side, murmuring: "Kerrick, isn't he the one from the guild... I never saw him fight, but... I saw the drunkard fight and win over five Gamorreans in a bar." Tuil looks over at Lazlo and offers a nod of greeting. He speaks quietly to both apprentices. "Contests such as this are close to the dark side, but at the same time, it is important to watch and see what possible opponents may be doing so that we can formulate our own strategies for defense and counter." Kerrick falls silent as the other man wields his blade... And dashes towards the man, his armored boots churning up the muck and mire with a sickening squelching sound and a clumpy spray. Once with reach, he thrusts his blade. The drunk suddenly falls over sideways, his left hand thrown up into the air wildly. By some stupid luck, his own blade clashes with his opponents, blocking it with a loud metallic -TWANG-! "feeh hramrhmm." Vires grumbles, before spinning around with a sweeping slicing motion. "Really? I did hear he was a rather rough and tough brawler, at some point," Gavik admits. He watches the first round of slashing, then winces as Vires connects. "Ouch! His technique is sort of good: I'd hate to see him sober." Leaning back he looks to the woman. "What were you doing in a bar with Gamoreans?" Another bubble. Another pop. Emerald eyes watch the two fighters go at it, laughing at Vires' prowess-- even when trashed. Morrigan surveys the one named Kerrick, wincing behind her mask as he gets slashed by the drunkard. Windom nods at Tuil's warning about the Dark Side. The young apprentice watches the combat with a look of detachment and disgust. The hunter is thrown slightly off balance as his attack is neatly parried and it exposes his side for Vires' slash. Despite Kerrick's best efforts to twist away from the attack, the muck roots him solidly in place and the blade bites home, drawing first blood. A pained exhalation of breath accomplanies the blow and the hunter regards his opponent with surprise before lashing out once more. The crowd murmers!! "hup!" Vires bellows lightly, as he sucks in his gut. Narrowly missing the gleaming blade of his opponent. Where was the gleam coming from? Vires slides down in a crouching motion, looking up into the sun. He uses both hands for momentum and tries to uppercut the hunter, blade suddenly hilt side up in his hand. Two gentlemen wearing business suits and looking totally out of place on this barbaric world sit in the stands and watch. One of them points down at Vires and smiles to his friend. "25,000 on the one beating the huntmaster!" Lazlo nods slowly at Tuil's words. "Yes, Knight Lindo," he says softly. Surprised eyebrows raise as Lazlo watches Kerrick's injury and continued failures. "I find myself surprised at this fight," he says softly. "I've seen the Huntmaster execute Bozlo for insulting Knight Yaala'ani. He has the will." Mauren stands still by the railing, watching the drunken Vires and the Huntsmaster struggle back and forth in silence, whether due to the lack of expression able to be shown under his visor, or otherwise, is anyone's guess. A young pilot stands off to the side, not really involved in the spectators. Occasionally he looks up to watch the fight, green eyes only vaguely interested; Anakin runs a hand through his blonde hair, frowning slightly. Tuil glances over at the pilot with the green eyes and watches him carefully a moment. "Perhaps his technique /is/ being drunk." Aileen's voice sounds amused. Her veiled features turn away from the fight towards Gavik. "I was serving drinks in that bar," she explains, quietly. "It's better and more safe than working for the Hutts." Rooga the Hutt leans forward on the dias as the fight goes on. Occasionally his booming laugh can be heard over the noise of the crowd as the Hutt enjoys the game being played on the shore below. Another swing. Another miss. Another painful counterattack. Kerrick stumbles backward as more of his blood is spilt to be churned amongst the muck. He pauses and levels his gaze at his opponent, watching him carefully and then a most unusual sound splits the air... The hunter is laughing. It is a rough, grating noise through the voice modulator but it is as happy a sound as the electronics will allow. "It has been far too long since I was soundly trounced by a drunk in a good barfight," Kerrick says as he regards Vires with a new light in his eyes. Vires smiles a warm drunken smile at the man, swaying ever constant. "Yyy just need t-t..to have some m'roe fun!" He slurs out, incompetantly. "I can help you there, names...names...Vv..vires. puterthere." He holds out his hand to shake with the hunter, unfortunetly it's also the hand with his knife in it. The weapon flies off to the corner of the ring. Myriad's attention turns from the fight to those with him in the crowd, searching for a familiar face. His gaze settles on Aileen and he slips over to her, smiling slightly. "I feel much better, today." There is something guarded in his voice, the faintest hint of suspicion, perhaps. Faris' face is a touch impassive, perhaps too much so, as she calmly sips her Lum. Though, eventually, the sight of the hunter master's blood on the thick mud eventually brings a cruel smirk to her lips, albeit short-lived. Tuil looks back to see this display of chivalry and he shakes his head at the naivete or perhaps pure stupidity of Vires. "Yes, I do," Kerrick replies as he tosses his weapon to the side and shakes Vires hand. "I'm Kerrick. I'll buy you a round after we're done pumelling each other for these folks' amusement," he adds. Then he pulls his opponent in close by the very hand he was shaking and aims a knee at his gut. "Alcohol that gives you fighting prowess??" Gavik asks. He frowns, shaking his head. "You read too much fiction." He winces again, seeing Kerrick cut twice in a row, and laughs a little at Vires' drunken meandering and slurs. However, looking up, he nods briefly to Myriad before letting his attention drift to the fight. "Make that two rounds!" Vires gasps out, as he uses Kerricks hand to swing around and behind him. Once there he gives the man a light shove, to throw him off balance, letting go of his hand afterwards. All the while with a silly smile, he probably wouldn't even remember being here by tomorrow. Bumped backwards, Morrigan hits the grey-visored figure near her-- gaze shooting over her shoulder. "Sorry," she mutters, fighting for vantage again to see what's going on. Kerrick is spun and struck for his trouble and stumbles to a halt in the mud a few feet away. He digs in his boots and launches himself at Vires with reckless abandon. "Well, what if it did? Alcohol has a strange effect on some people," Aileen's voice is warm at Gavik. She turns to her other side, and a smile can be glimpsed behind her veil at the sight of Myriad. "Hello," she continues, voice soft. "I'm glad to see you feeling better. This surely is experiencing new things, isn't it?" As the Hunter launches forward, so does the drunk. With more of a stumble, though. He slips past the hunters attack and lightly grabs his nose and pinches it. "honk!" He mutters, before laughing hysterically and falling flat on his back. Kanaye climbs the viewing stands. With each step the Togruta takes the bells on the end of his lekku jingle. He pauses in his trek, his hazel eyes leaving the fight to search the crowd. Kerrick blinks as he is not only struck but as a hand grabs at his helm and his opponent says "honk. "Honk?!" the hunter replies as turns to face the now-prostrate man. With a soft chuckle, he shakes his head and dives on the man in the mire. "Hrgh..." It would be apparent the grey-visored figure uses a voice modulator, for a rush of static rasps from its helm as Morrigan bumps into his shoulder, perhaps meant to be a threatening sound. It pays the bubble-snapping lady no further attention, his own squat frame fighting to find a proper vantage point. Lazlo smiles faintly at the way the fight is starting to turn out. He glances back to Tuil and clears his throat. "So, Knight Lindo, how are things? I haven't met with you in some time," he asks the Knight. A glance is then given to Windom. "And how have you been? I haven't seen you in---Actually, I'm not sure we've yet met," he says with a smirk. Vires deftly raises both of his knees, a shield of flesh and bone blocking the hunters mired attack. Then he turns the shield into a weapon, kicking out with both feet at the same time, aimed squarely at Kerricks helmeted head. Tuil answers quickly as the fight progresses, "I have been working on various projects--" He stops talking and looks as Kerrick falls and the Jedi frowns a bit at the display of combat that has resulted in this. The crowd cheers, hisses, snarls, and a wide variety of other alien noises. Over the cheers, a woman's voice. "Ten thousand credits to finish the hunter!" Faris is on her feet, lum flute abandoned in the grass. Her voice is strong and cruel, much like the expression on her face. Lazlo's smile fades significantly as the once-silly fight comes to a startling end. "Hrm," he says softly to no one in particular. Kerrick dives headlong into Vires' waiting feet and is knocked back a good meter by the man's double-barelled kick and lands hard, sending a wave of mud flying in every which direction. He lies there, motionless for a good 30 seconds before one gauntleted hand is lifted up. "You've earned the two rounds..." he says weakly. At Faris' words, over 36 heavy repeaters are suddenly lifted at the ready and aimed in at the woman. Vires springs to his feet, suddenly energetic and proud as the crowd cheers him on. He circles the ring, shaking his fists together in the air. Triumph! Glory! Victory! Dizziness! ...Dizziness? He stops and feels his head for a minute, swaying again. Soon the man falls over, passed out. Snoring follows. As the blasters are raised in Faris' direction, Tuil slowly reaches for something under his robes, though his hand remains hidden for the moment as he waits to see how this threat will play out. Windom's head whips around his eyes scan those assembled at the occasional bet. Sensing Tuil's alertness, the young man's own hands reach under his robe for concealed weapons. "What is it?" Lazlo Dega asks softly in Tuil's direction, watching the Knight's movements. Lazlo's own hand reaches underneath his outer robes and looks back to Tuil. As his brethren tense, the blonde-haired pilot takes a step closer, a hand dropping to his hip. Anakin moves closer to Tuil, eyes narrowing slightly. Tuil nods over towards those who are threatening the woman and he says softly for Lazlo and Windom, "Such events as this lead to displays of violence. Though she is bloodthirsty it seems, her life is to be protected as vigorously as any other." The Jedi waits then. Rooga claps his hands together and cheers as the fight draws to a close. "Chuba jeedai! Ho chik, peedunkee!" he booms. The Hutt snaps his fingers and his protocol droid steps forward bearing a large bowl. Rooga reaches into it and removes a small, froglike creature. He plops the creature into his mouth and chomps while waiting for the crowd to die down. When it finally does he speaks again. "A copah poy gopptula! Yatuka Eniki be sleemo makacheesa!" A motion of his hand sends a group of Gamorreans into the field to remove the fighters. Seeing the raised blasters and tense situation happening in the stands, Rooga clears his throat loudly into the microphone. "Droi yafullkee uba bargon hoohah gocola moocha h'chu bedwana ootmian lorda planeeto. Ne chuba jewz schoon smak Bunky!" "Excellent fight! Ho ho, excellent! A most excellent showing! Congratulate Vires..when he wakes up! The fights are of course to take place down on the field. Unsanctioned(and thus unprofitable for the Hutts) fighting will be dealt with HARSHLY!" "New things ... yes, I suppose." Myriad glances at Gavik blankly, arms crossing still. "I don't know. It all seems rather dull to me. Are either of you planning to fight? I am, but ..." There is a faint sound of something metallic becoming unclipped from something underneath Lazlo's robes, but nothing is taken out. Lazlo glances in the direction of Anakin and tilts his head to the side slightly before looking back in the direction of Faris. Kanaye's eyes pause in their search of the crowd to narrow on Tuil from behind. A moment later the Togruta grunts, turns, and begins walking in the opposite direction. "Fight? Me? No, not at all." Aileen laughs at Myriad's words, shaking her head at the Clone. "Could you really picture me out there, fistfigthing? I leave that to those who are better at it. Like you." As the Hutt handles the situation, Tuil relaxes and waits for the next fight to begin. He looks to Lazlo and Windom and nods slowly as he removes his hand from his robes. "ENOUGH," Kerrick commands as he slowly picks himself up to his knees. The word is directed at his men. "Enough. I am glad to have had the chance to fight without it being to the death. I /tire/ of it," he states emphatically. "Come and let us be off," he says, waving off the Gamorreans and noddings towards his own men who move onto the field to help pry the hunter loose from the mud and haul him away from the ring. The drunken fighter is dragged off stage by some helpful Gamorrean fellows, who suspiciously have fighting scars all over their faces... ...Oh, well. Congratulate him in the gutter! Glancing at the stands where it seems, one... two... maybe three... men in robes with one hand in them, sit, Morrigan arches a brow. "Righto, whatever floats your boat... I guess..." she mumbles to herself, shaking her head. Her poor flute glass is trampled as Faris' guards form a protective wall around her. She waves them aside, her expression now of dramatized sadness. "Hmm, maybe the offer was simply not large enough," she says with a sigh and settles herself back down. A wave of her finger brings one of her bodyguards to her, and she leans into whisper to the armored man, slipping something into his hand. After listening to Kerrick's voice and then Tuil's silent encouragement, Lazlo reclips something metallic to something else under his robes. Brown eyes focus on the fighting area while Lazlo comments quietly. "You know, the Huntmaster surprises me more and more," he says softly. Windom smirks as the tension suddenly defuses. The apprentice takes the oppurtunity to glance at his fellows, each in turn: Tuil, Lazlo and Anakin. Fukiyama suddenly appears, encased in black Merr Sonn armor and visored-helmet. The man carries with him a Kh'rusha forcepike. Walking out into the ring, he lifts high the pike and utters a yell of bloodlust! "DAMN THE MAN!" At the appearance of Fukiyama Aileen Jo briefly tenses, but soon she straightens her back to watch the arena easily enough. She tilts her head and whispers something to Gavik. Chewing her gum a few times as a Force Pike is handed to her, the woman takes it from her mouth and sticks it behind her ear. She steps out from the crowd, yep-- the five foot five inch wee little lady. Morrigan makes her way towards the battle-crying Fukiyama, looking bemused more than anything else. "THE MAN HAS MORE AND BIGGER GUNS THAN YOU!" Kerrick screams back, causing his voice modulator to crack from the strain. Then he doubles over and starts coughing as his wounded sides protest the sudden exertion from his lungs. He slowly rights himself and watches the fight from his position off to the sidelines... but not before his eyes wander towards the woman who called for his death. "I'm not much good at fighting," Gavik says, almost lazely. "I just like the sport of fair fights." He looks to Myriad. "You seem to be a good sort for it. Want me to bet money on you? I don't have much, but if it boosts your confidence.." He watches the scene with hunters and Faris briefly, then shakes his head. He leans in towards Aileen and nods briefly, but doesn't whisper back. "Don't bet anything. I'm not as good with my hands as my brother; a blaster, now, that's a different story." Myriad sighs wistfully. "If only I could use one in this battle. I am a very good shot, you know. At least, /I/ think so." Kanaye finds a seat at last and sits down to watch the entertainment. He clicks his tongue, "So small and fragile. I doubt this will take very long. The poor man doesn't stand a chance." Fukiyama turns back to Morrigan, ignoring voices from the crowd. Whatever his expression is, it is hidden behind the visored helm. He circles slowly the little woman before him, his forcepike held at the ready, all business... "In jail, they made me fight for my food, they made me fight to keep them from raping me... They made me fight for LIFE!" He utters these words and then suddenly springs forward with his forcepike up over his head and then he slashes hard down at the woman's left thigh! "It won't." the grey-visored figure remarks curtly, apparently catching Kanaye's comment, voice metallic and garbled. The hunter listens to Fukiyama's words and shakes his head slowly. "Scum..." he hisses to no one in particular. "Common criminal /scum./" You paged Petrus Renatalis and Mauren Cani with 'What names are you fighting under?' Lamenting the loss of her gum (she tends to swallow it when she gets excited, you see, might choke...), Morrigan bounds above the incoming Force Pike swung for her legs. Adopting a rather easy stride thereafter, the Force Pike she holds in one of her small hands is spun-- blunt end twirling circles to her side. "Cry me a river," she retorts, swinging the blunt end of the Force Pike for Fukiyama's head. Kanaye's head turns toward Mauren Cani. The Togruta simply nods. Fukiyama falls to the ground onto his back and starts convulsing. After a moment, his body stills. His helmet broken and cracked, a trickle of blood appears flowing out onto the ground. Retrieving her gum, Morrigan looks half concerned. A boot prods the helmet-clad head on the ground as blood trickles out. "Uh... I said cry me a river, not die... geeze..." she mutters, ambling off back toward the crowd. Kerrick watches the fight come to its short, bloody conclusion and slowly rises with the aid of his men. Together, a moving mass of muscle and weaponry, they leave. "Nothing like a good blaster," Gavik replies, nodding. He cringes and jumps as Fukiyama drops like a bad habbit, and then stares at the little woman as he walks away. "Is he.. alive!?" the young man asks, staring at the twitching body. Tuil watches this fight with solemn gravity, especially its conclusion. He looks first at Windom and then at Lazlo and then shakes his head. "You see now the brutality of this place? Do you feel it? The Dark Side?" The Jedi shakes his head again and folds his hands in his sleeves. Brown eyes widen at the quick and brutal end to this gladiator match. Myriad lifts an eyebrow and then regains his composure, coughing. "That was ... easy." Rooga's eyes open wide and the young Hutt bellows with excitement as Morrigan ends the fight almost before it even begins. The froggy treat he had just plucked from the bowl has become little more than a gloopy paste after being squished in the Hutt's palm near the close of the fight. "An jee ne copah! Apenkee chawa chaa keepuna cheeska tagwa moulee-rah!" Another team of Gamorreans is dispatched to remove Fukiyama's body. Whether they plan to take him for medical treatment or to the kitchens isn't known just yet. Idly, Rooga licks the frog-paste off of his palm and leans close to the microphone. Up next, we have our third fight of the day. Welcome Petrus Renatalis and Mauren Cani to the ring! These two fighters are late entries and thus will be using their own equipment. Let us see what they have to offer!" "An absolutely amazing display! Congratulations are in order for the female! Rooga the Hutt says, "Welcome Petrus Renatalis and Mauren Cani to the ring! These two fighters are late entries and thus will be using their own equipment. Let us see what they have to offer!" "Who knows if he is alive," mutters Aileen in reply to Gavik. She lifts her hand to bite into her knuckles, but discovers that the veil is in her way. "I didn't expect her to win that easily. That insane bugger... the other, not /her/... took on a Hutt, once, and lived to tell the tale." She turns to Myriad. "Good luck!" "It's true. I do feel the Dark Side in this place," Lazlo replies softly. At Rooga's announcement, the padawan raises his eyebrows and looks over at Tuil and Windom. "Petrus? I thought he was dead?" he says suddenly, in a hushed voice. Morrigan doesn't have to push her way through the crowd this time, finding a nice little spot near a Togrutan to watch the next fight. Looks like she just scored herself a Force Pike, too. She nods her greeting before standing on tip-toes for a better view of the arena. His name -- at least one of them, the unfamiliar one people seem to utter when they recognize his face -- called, Myriad looks up. Shrugging, he unbuckles his armor and then steps through the crowd and into the ring, carrying no weapon but his fists. Windom nods at Tuil and shudders. "Its like a weight on my shoulders." Faris' armored bodyguard makes his way through the crowds to the Hutt's dais, where he bows low at the waist. "My Lady offers her humblest apologies, great one." He says, holding out before him what appears to be a credit chip of large sum. From her seat, the woman offers the Hutt a small nod, hardly paying attention to the short fight. As the new fighters are announced, however, she looks back to the ring, one eyebrow raised in interest. Tuil looks then to the new fighters and waits patiently for this next display of harrowing violence to begin. With only bare fists, Mauren steps with rather stiff gait into the ring, unimposing, barely reaching five feet in height. Casting away his armor, a brown-scarfed visage is revealed, tufts of fur peeking through where the tattered garment does not obscure. A furry sentient, indeed. "Your move," he offers hoarsely, adopting a flexible stance, fists brought up before him. Generous, maybe. Rooga offers Faris a smile as she makes her apologies. "Peedunkee tella. Moocha jee, koochu yatuka cheeska?" he says, laughing. One of his guards steps forward to take the credit chip for the Hutt as Rooga himself turns his attention back to the fighting. "Apology accepted. No harm, no foul eh?" "If you insist," Myriad shrugs casually, balling his fists and dropping into a fighter's stance. Feet shuffling quickly across the dirt, he advances on the Bothan, a fist lashing out towards his midsection. Kanaye frowns, "The small one seems out of his element." He indicates Mauren with a nod, "but it seems that sentiment is shared by his opponent." Gavik watches Myriad depart. He cheers for him a little, then leans towards Aileen and whispers something quietly. Afterwards he pushes himself back up, then claps a little. Braken walks into the area followed by some of his crewmen and personal guards. The Arcona looks around and then sees the crowd. He moves over to where everone is. As Myriad lashes out with his fist, black fabric flutters in Mauren's wake as he slides to the right, his own fist whistling to jab at his opponent's shoulder -- dodging. Then, with a sudden jerk, he rushes forward in a combination strike, black boot thrusting to deal a vicious to the man's hopefully, exposed head. Aileen stiffens at this and leans over to whisper something back to Gavik. Then she concerns herself with watching the fight, clapping dutifully at each blow - no matter who recieves and who delivers the hit. Braken finally makes his way over to Rooga's dias and then bows "I am regrettably late your excellence...I hope I have not missed much" "Masterful," Morrigan remarks to no one in particular, arms folded over her chest as one hand cradles the Force Pike-- such a pretty Force Pike. She chews her gum, watching the two fighters carefully. One does not expect pwnage from cute, furry creatures. Suddenly a very hard, unwelcoming boot slams into Myriad's cheerful face, and the man is slammed backwards, dumped unceremoniously on his behind as blood begins to pour from his nose, eye half-shut as he winces. "... bleh," he manages cheerfully, tasting the blood that trickles down his face. Carefully, he picks himself up and backs off, fists flexing slightly; something sharp and black emerges from each knuckle, with a very faint, quiet hiss. Eyes flashing, the man leaps forward once more. Rooga offers Braken a smile. "Bunky, gopptula pankpa! Hunka jee gocola rundee tella. Lickmoomoo pateessa pawa toma a choppa! Hoohah chawa youngee murishani inkabunga choo." He pats the Arcona on the back, simultaneously wiping the slobbery remains of one of his frog creatures on Braken's back. "Braken, my boy! Glad you could make it. You have missed quite a spectacle! But there is more to come." Braken looks over to the fighters and takes a seat next to the Hutt, he looks over to the two fighitng and then looks back over to the Hutt and says "1000 credits on the Bothan..." He looks to Rooga with a smile and says "I hope she is good. Should be fun though...What you say your excellence" Kanaye leans forward in his seat, "Interesting.." His eyes narrow on Petrus's hands. He chuckles, "I think this young fighter is someone I would like to meet." Windom, keeping his eyes on the combatants, leans over and whispers to Tuil. Rooga laughs loudly. "Doma waffmula your makacheesa! lickmoomoo poy tee-tocky bolla. chawa, panwa buttmalia tella choppa dwana." he says to his droid. "I'll take your bet! 1000 on the other. 4D4, make note of our wager." Cute, furry feature.. Right. A mixture of surprise and befuddlement seeps into the Bothan's golden eyes as the man retreats.. Only to sport sharp, pointy claws. "Surprising." the figure only remarks, his own feet kicking up dirt and sand as he manages to sidestep Myriad's swipe. Flanking once again, Mauren's stance would betray heightened wariness, circling as he dashes to deliver a clenched fist to the strange man's side. At the whisper from his apprentice, Tuil nods slowly. Whatever value this display had for Tuil is gone as he sees Petrus use his claws. The Jedi shakes his head slowly and then looks to Windom and Lazlo. "I think I will head back to the ship. Excuse me." He rises from his place and starts to walk around the ring slowly, paying no attention to the drama within. Braken smiles and nods and then looks on from his seat..He motions for his men to mingle and enjoy the fight. At the moment Braken doesn't seem to look as others in attendance..he mainly check out the fight..for now Where once cruel or impassive features were, Faris' face now bears a look of surprise and, maybe, a hint of concern. Her gloved hands ball silken fabrics of her skirts into fists and her lips form a tense, red line. Gavik nods his head to Aileen. He sighs a little and shakes his head, afterwards, then leans in to whisper again. Calmly he leans back out, so he can watch without too much trouble. Lazlo glances towards Tuil and raises his eyebrows slightly, finally nodding slowly and glancing quietly over at Windom. He says nothing. Tuil is passing by when he notices Faris' reaction to the fighting. He looks at her dispassionately and asks, "Miss, are you troubled by something? Are you allied with one of those fighters in the ring at present?" The man overextends, a clawed hand swiping past the Bothan without landing; suddenly a hard fist jabs into his side and he reels, crumpling into the dirt and wincing, teeth clenched so hard that blood begins to trickle from a split lip. The claws disappear into his knuckles, hand resting on a broken rib. "I concede," he says quietly, pulling himself away slightly. Braken looks over to Rooga and says "Well this round looks to me mine, my friend. How many more fights you have left so you can get a chance to win your money back?" When the final matchup has ended, Rooga the Hutt lifts himself up to his full height and applauds loudly. "Bedwana kava dunko hoohah jee wata haku, Tonka! Yatuka Bargon win koochu jeedai yafullkee droi chowbasa eniki killee." When the noise from the crowd finally dies down, the Hutt smiles wide as he slowly turns his gaze from the left to the right and then back, inspecting the crowd. Finally, he leans forward to speak into the microphone. "Ulwan dunko nibobo a achuta choppa jewz! Bunky konchee haku patogga wanga jee-jee na nudd shag yocola. Chuba howdunga jee jeedai panwa youngee bedwana moulee-rah. Waffmula nobata Choo, Morrigan ootmian Mauren Wankee!" "It looks like you won that bet, Braken! Perhaps I'll win my credits back on the final matchup. This has been a day to remember! Each fighter here has shown themself to be brave indeed. Unfortunately only one may be named the winner. Step forward Vires, Morrigan and Mauren Cani!" The bodyguards bristle at the robed man's closeness, hands going tensely to the blades at their sides. Faris simply turns her head, her features again masked in aloofness. "A shame to see such a pretty face marred," she says cooly. Stolidly silent, Mauren disengages, coming to a stand still, rasps of light breathing heard behind his scarf. He offers a gloved hand to aid the man, should Myraid choose to receive it. The Bothan dips his head in a sharp gesture of quiet approval to his opponent, until turning to answer Rooga's call. Morrigan garners a 'buh' expression. She also doesn't look to be going anywhere anytime soon... even if it is as simple as forward. Braken nods and listens to the three names and listens to Rooga speak. Vires opens one eye groggily. "ehermm? ..oh.. me.." He struggles to his feet and clambers to the ring, pulling a flask out of his patched and stitched jacket. The man accepts the Bothan's hand thankfully, pulling himself up and clutching his side. Myriad limps out of the ring towards Faris, smiling bitterly and then wincing. Tuil shrugs. "That's true, but he chose his path, didn't he?" The Jedi glances at the bodyguards and smiles slightly and then back to Faris. "This is a pretty low-brow sport that you look like you are far above. What brings you here? Just out to see the pretty faces before they are destroyed?" Gavik claps after the bout, and claps a little more as the three champions are called forward. He watches them, if they enter, and continues to clap. Aileen Jo excuses herself after a moment. Kanaye's eyes follow the clone, "It was an interesting fight after all." He starts to rise from his seat, but stops when his eyes narrow the clone's probable destination, "There will be other chances." Rooga's face darkens and his eyes narrow when only Mauren Cani and Vires do as they were asked. The Hutt claps his hands twice and Gamorreans littered throughout the spectator stands and around the ring raise their weapons. The Hutt's protocol droid steps up to the microphone and timidly speaks. "The Majestic Lord Rooga has asked that ALL THREE winners make their way to the center of the ring. The games will continue once his request has been answered." Vires tosses a look behind him, not even knowing who the winner was. But it was someone in that crowd. "Cmmmonnn!" He beckons drunkinly, with peer pressure enthusiasm. "Commonnnnn!" A foolish grin. He takes a second to empty his flask. In his throat. Sighing heavily, the Force Pike toting munchkin ambles forward, looking like she just ate a lemon-- so sour! "Fine, fine, keep your slime on..." Morrigan mutters, slipping between the Bothan and the Drunk. Slight mirth dances in what is visible of the Bothan's gaze, his attention half-focused on the drunk. Rooga smiles as Morrigan makes her way out as he asked. Looking down on the three fighters gathered in the ring, he speaks again. "Planeeto ulwan youngee copah jee-jee keepuna toma dunko patogga apenkee konchee koochu tonka." As he speaks, several Gamorreans scurry onto the field carrying various types of weapons. "Hunka coo dwana buttmalia yoka wankee!" "You three have proven yourselves worthy to move on to the final event. Prepare yourselves for the main event!" With a wide smile opening up the Hutt's huge face, Rooga raises the control box and presses a big red button. The container on the far side of the ring shakes as it opens and the sound of electricity being touched against flesh followed by a terrifying roar is heard as whatever was inside comes barreling down the tunnel. Moments later, a large, hideous-looking snidd bursts from the mouth of the tunnel and into the ring. Braken eyes the three contestants and thinks for a moment as they move to the center. The Arcona seems relaxed and enjoying todays festivities in trying to make up for missing the earlier fights..he thinks to himself . Finally he looks over to Rooga and says "Well I will give ya chance to Win your money back...I guess I will bet $1000 more credits on..." pauses and then looks "I guess I will pick the female in the middle..Those two men look pretty strong, which will you choose? If the other male wins then I guess we call it a draw" Looks to the illustious Hutt and smiles in a manner to show he is having a good time. After all, all work and no play make for a dull Arcona. "Nice fur," Morrigan remarks to the Bothan, though, she fans the air in front of her face at Vires' ... distinctive scent. Vires looks around for something to prepare himself, but his flask is empty and thus thrown away. He turns to investigate the crowd for a helping hand. "I.. .. Booze?" Vires grumbles out. He only saw a whip...a blaster.. and a timed mine. He couldn't drink any of that! Rooga looms over the microphone for a moment as the snidd waits near the mouth of the tunnel, eyeing the fighters. "Bolla copah rundee! Apenkee hoohah ulwan yocola chowbasa droi pankpa smak tee-tocky youngee wankee shag moulee-rah an choo moocha!" "Kill the beast! Whoever lands the killing blow will be named the grand champion and receive an additional prize!" Morrigan, for her part, watches the snidd being led out-- face contorting in a rather displeased fashion. "Oh, ew," she murmurs, holding onto the Force Pike. "How many weapons, aye?" the woman shouts, eyeing the mine... "Thanks." the Bothan says simply to the compliment -- chipper, picking up a dropped blaster on the ground. That is, until the beast bursts through the released gates. "May the best sentient win?" he offers dubiously, short frame rolling to dodge the probable onslaught of the snidd. A dark crease forms on his mouth, jaw gradually clenching into a grim countenance. Rooga chuckles as Braken places his bet. "Jee h'chu? An waffmula lickmoomoo. Coo konchee panwa choo copah planeeto hoohah chuba yoka. Pateessa tonta che a wankee me gocola jedda pawa bedwana. Eniki, be patogga inkabunga. Buttmalia Haku!" He then sits back on his tail to watch the main event with a look of sheer joy on his face. "The woman? An excellent choice. But the other two were quite good as well. This will be a tough choice...I will choose that one. No, not the drunk. The Bothan!" "Entertainment, I suppose." Faris offers Tuil blandly. She spots the clone behind the Jedi, and her face softens. A brief flicker of a smile as she raises a hand to wave him over. Vires is momentarily saddened as the crowd doesn't throw any alchohal to him! He mumbles in despair and stumbles backwards, right into the Snidd! "gah!" He cries, spinning with a punch right to its ugly face. Mines, so tempremental. She leaves it well enough alone, grinning at the Bothan. "May the best sentient win," she murmurs, backing up some from her other ... successful, fighters. The gum, as before, is chewed a few times before it's taken out of Morrigan's mouth and put behind her ear-- Force Pike lifted and twirled-- watching Vires strike. Her turn, she guesses... Morrigan lashing out with the blunt end of the weapon. Tuil waves a hand at Faris in farewell and continues on his way out. Choosing to engage the mutated beast at a respectably safe distance, Mauren's trigger finger pumps to unleash a barrage of bolts for the snidd's head. "Lovely." he says dryly, merciless in squeezing choice shots at the large creature. Braken watches the fight and cheers as the drunk hits the Snidd "AHHHH good job..." He waits for the next attack and then eyes the female ready her pike..The pike swings down and the Snidd is cut down with one blow "WOW!!!!!...now thats what I call a showing.." He looks to Rooga and says "Well then..it was lucky guess on my part. My friend..much much fun to watch" Windom keeps an eye on the three fighters behind the energy shield. His cold eyes take in the fury of the combat. But he does not display any outward emotion. Rooga's eyes go wide with surprise as his snidd is utterly destroyed by the woman. After a moment of stunned silence, the Hutt begins to clap slowly. "Wanga winkee gocola. Ne Howdunga shag na chuba bargon!" he says, shaking his head. "Makacheesa, dwana hoohah chawa chik sleemo ulwan yocola an yatuka!" He presses the button again and in moments another, even large snidd comes snarling out of the tunnel. "Ho ho ho. Perhaps I have underestimated our fighters! Well, lets see what they can do against an adult!" The Drunk ducks and rolls as the Snidds claws take a swipe at him! The breeze of the attack whisps his hair. Shortly after the beast falls to his companions attacks. The drunk stands, "That wasn't hard at --AGH!" He ducks again as an even bigger snidd appears from behind him and lunges! He tries to slide under it, kicking with his feet. Watching the beast fall down, Morrigan shouts something at the Bothan-- lost in the din as the even bigger snidd comes out. "Oh, now that's /hardly/ fair," the woman grunts, watching Vires go for its soft, little, kind-of-pudgy, underbelly... she thinks that's an underbelly, at least. Whistling a tune, the black-and-green haired woman runs up, aiming a strike at the snidd's face with the Force Pike, trying not to get too close... Several words are shouted as the first beast crumples to the ground, the thunderous roar of the snidd drowning out any comprehendable dialogue. "When were Hutts fair?" the scarfed Bothan grunts, watching both Vires's swipe at the beast, and then the jolly Forcepike-wielding woman's vicious strike, turning to pop off his own potshots at the snidd in heated fury. The drunk slides under the beast, his attack missing. Now at it's rear, he mutters insults. "Ohh..think your...clever uh!?" is uttered before he swings a vicious hook at the snidds ... well. The snidds hiney. The beak she aimed for comes flying off, clanging off the Force Pike and straight into Morrigan's ankle. She hops about, using some rather colourful and choice words-- walking it off quickly. "How rude!" she scowls, enough to see the Bothan get struck, as well as the Drunk. Oh dear. No time to mill about, the pint-sized woman aims another strike at the beastly snidd, again, for its face. Rude indeed. The Bothan's blaster bolts aren't nearly enough to stop the snidd's powerful, razor-sharp claws from drawing a rend in his side as it charges. Mauren's teeth grit, growling a few words as he rolls to the side, golden eyes narrowing as they once again track down the beast's movements, firing. Vires is sent sputtering to the ground as he gets a kick to the gut from one of the creatures vicious legs. Looking up he -- Ooh. Oh god. Shouldn't have looked up. Vires rolls to the left and quickly stands, trying to hit the creature in the side with a pair of strong hands. Muttering something under her breath as the scaly creature dodges her attack, Morrigan moves away from the head of the beast-- running at a dash and angling the pointed end of the Force Pike at the Snidd's side. She tries to slice into the thing's flesh in a running line-- opening the beast up. The woman in silks watches Tuil leave, hardly a glance back into the ring, despite the snarls, curses, and sounds of battle coming from it. Simply, Faris smooths her skirts and waves a bodyguard over to whisper something to him. Another glancing slash of the frothing creature strikes home, claw marks tearing holes in Mauren's black attire. He abandons any precise shots, the furry sentient preferring to 'Rambo' the damned thing. Vires gets pawed aside by the big beast, and stumbles back landing on rough ground. Bare fists weren't going to do much to this wild thing... His hand search the ground for his flask. Surely he had some -- Whip? His hand closes around the weapon unsuspectingly, it seemed to hum in his hand. "Eh! Get off..!" He mutters, throwing his arm back towards the beast in attempt to loosen the weapon. He had seen those dirty vids! Who knows where this thing had been? Instead a bullwhip crack cuts the air. Braken looks to Rooga and says "This is getting interesting...Anyone could land the last killing blow at this point." He looks back watching the fighters battle it out with the creature. Okay so she did slice it open... but caught a slice of her own from one of the snubby claws on the thing's leg-- cutting into Morrigan's thigh. The crack of the whip on the air alerts her ears, as the Snidd is struck-- a quick glance out the corner of her emerald eye for the Bothan post-Rambo. She strikes again, again, for the Snidd's head! Gavik winces as the Snidd pounds the fighters, but just keeps fighting. He cheers at some points, boos at others, and mostly follows the crowd. When Vires grabs the whip he cheers, and he also cheers when Morrigan lands a hit to the head. Windom has seen enough blood and gore for one day. The Jedi Apprentice rises his seat overlooking the combat ring, shakes his head, and follows Tuil's example: he leaves. Some of the blaster bolts hit.. Others miss. What a dainty spurt of bolts. Deadly claws once again make their mark -- this time, his shoulder. The Bothan attempts to route the vicious snidd, flanking its side as the other two combatants aim for its head and belly. The drunken Vires couldn't last much longer. All the pain was sobering him up, and on top of that those things claws were deadly. But now he had his toy! err. weapon! "Woah.." He mutters in amusement as the whip succeeds where his fists had failed. "Hyah!" He cries, now getting into it as he once against lashes out at the snidd. Gettin' sick of this damn Snidd. Slamming it in the face with a Force Pike is nice enough, though the retaliation part is not so nice. Rather Fail, actually. She strikes at the thing again, Morrigan being an equal opportunity mangler-- aiming anywhere she can strike it with the Force Pike. Braken eyes as the drunk is whipping that beast like red headed stepchild on sunday...Braken cheers and laughs seemingly enjoying the battle. He looks over to the female with the pike and watches the Snidd turn her attention on her, he holds his breath waiting for the blow and says "Yeaaaaa...There it is...She finished it off..I thought the drunkard had it with the last blow, but the girl finished it" He looks to Rooga and says "Well I guess it was my lucky day today." The Bothan's own sentiments are not far from the woman's, and he squeezes the trigger of the carbine in rapid succession, full fury, precision thrown to the wind. Lazlo frowns slightly at the match and stands. The man in green draws his hood over his head and begins to walk down the isle and moving to leave the area. There is a scowl on his face. Rooga cheers loudly as the second beast is finally brought down. So excited is the Hutt that several unchewed pieces of food find their way out of his mouth and onto his face and anyone unlucky enough to be in the way of the soggy projectiles. Once he has finally brought himself back under control, Rooga rubs his hands together and leans close to the microphone. "Smak. Jee-jee ulwan moulee-rah yafullkee badda nudd howdunga droi achuta I cheeska yoka in a kava dwana. Pawa, poy sleemo toma jewz gopptula choppa." His hands work the controls once again and suddenly the ray shielding that made up the fighting ring disappear. Immediately several teams of Gamorreans move to clear the shore of the dead beasts and other debris. "Haku chowbasa chuba schoon copah konchee achuta wanga. Kava yoka sleemo koochu keepuna murishani." He pauses for a moment to let the crowd cheer for the three combatants. "Youngee buttmalia patogga bedwana tee-tocky pawa che choppa, howdunga cheeska moulee-rah badda h'chu apenkee Kava Keepuna. Shag tella me poy chowbasa, nibobo chawa Mauren Bargon!" Before the crowd can get too loud Rooga holds his hands up. "Chuba, poy moocha Morrigan teesaw winkee tonka nobata rundee be. Keepuna chik sleemo, jujiminmee tagwa ne waffmula bolla na peedunkee!" "Congratulations. This was the most excellent display of skill that I have seen in a long time. Indeed, today's events will be long remembered. Let these three be remembered for many years. They have earned great honor today. All three of you are to be cheered, but there can only be one Grand Champion. For landing the killing blow, step forward Mauren Cani! However, the female Morrigan brought the beast to the ground. For her prowess, she earnes the title of runner up!" "Cheers!" Vires slurs out, holding up his whip. "agh!" Agh! The whip! He flings it away, finally free of its snake like grasp. The beast finally dead, he decides to rest a little too. Flopping over and leaning against it's dead carcass. He peeks inside the beasts wound curiously, just incase his flask was in there. But alas. So his attention returns to Rooga the Hutt. Barrel smoking, Maeren's chest rises and falls in heavy breaths, furry lips under his scarf seen to curve into a ghost of a lopsided smile. He hoists the gun barrel to rest on his shoulder, steps weary as he turns to approach at the Hutt's beckon. About time. As the Bothan lands the completely fatal blow, Morrigan places a hand to her leg-- two deep gashes at the thigh, though the blood has coagulated already. At the title of 'runner up', she merely nods, ambling over toward Vires. "You alright?" she asks, taking the piece of gum out from behind her ear and popping it back in her mouth. As the Bothan goes to receive his prize, she smirks, slightly. Braken turns to Rooga "Well I guess I should have listen better when you said kill, you meant kill it..Thats okay then I guess we are even, my friend" Rooga waits for the crowd to quiet down before speaking again. "Hunka jewz ootmian Moocha Chawa. Cheeska planeeto nobata pawa gopptula achuta tonka eniki pankpa moulee-rah Bedwana Bunky bolla nudd wamma. Tonta wata!" The Hutt then begins to slither away from his place on the dias, but not before motioning for one of his guards to make good on his bet with Braken. "This concludes the Gladiatorial Games. Feel free to enjoy the sights and quaint atmosphere that Gamor Prime has to offer. Thank you!" Category:March 2008 RP Logs